


Abandon me

by Mychemrom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24420625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mychemrom/pseuds/Mychemrom
Summary: A one shot story that keeps playing in my mind.Takes place in End Game when Natasha finds Ronin.(Keep this in mind as you read, lazy me couldn't be bothered to set the scene prior to commencing the story)TRIGGER warning for non con scenario.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Kudos: 15





	Abandon me

She led him by the hand into the closest building, the whole neighborhood cleared out during his rampage with the yakuzas.   
Natasha let go of his hand to fold down her umbrella, he stood there like a lost child, head slightly bowed and a look of utter anguish on his face. Her heart broke for him. She lent her umbrella against the wall and stepped towards him, her hand touched his face   
"Clint" her words were soft, her thumb stroking his cheek bone. Clint hesitated for a second before he stepped forward, his hand went to her hip and the other against the side of her neck, he pushed her back against the door as his lips touched hers.   
Natasha froze for a moment before letting herself kiss him back softly. He pulled his head back enough to look into her eyes, his breath was shallow but sporadic, like he was fighting to push something back. She studied his eyes in that short moment, his usual bright steel blue eyes were glazed over, showing only the grey within his irises, like the flame behind them had flickered out. 

Before Natasha could say anything Clint's grip on her hip tightened and his lips crashed into hers roughly. She put her hands on his chest giving a slight nudge to push him back but his hips had her pressed firmly against the wall.   
His kiss was hard and forceful but there was something else behind it, this madness inside him was driven by sorrow and pain. Natasha let herself relax a little and kissed him back. Clint let a small growl escape his lips as he pulled away from her face and kissed down her neck, his breath heavy as his hand undid the buckle of her jeans.   
He pushed her pants down over her ass before starting on his own, he undid his fly and placed his foot on her jeans as he lifted her off the floor, leaving the unwanted clothing below them. He kissed her roughly again, his hand under her ass holding her up and against his hips. His other hand pressed firmly against the wall next to her head, he pulled out of the kiss as he entered her without warning. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, pressing his forehead into the hollow of her throat as he thrust deep into her. Natasha gasped but bit back against the yelp of pain that swelled in her chest. The physical pain was minimal compared to the realization that she may lose him. Something in him had broken and she wasn't so sure she could make him whole again. 

Clint thrust into her hard and fast like there was nothing else in the world but this primal need for connection. Natasha's arms wrapped around his shoulders and she cradled his head, her cheek pressed against his hair. She pushed down the impulse to flip from his grasp and snap his neck like she would with any other man who dared touch her, but this was Clint, her partner. Her friend. She felt the tears biting at the corner of her eyes.   
Both his hands were on her thighs now, holding her firmly in place. His hips pistoned faster and more aggressively as she cradled his head, he wanted her to fight, he needed her to fight. To hate him, to hurt him.   
He grit his teeth as his breath grew more ragged, his legs began shaking as he felt his orgasm grow. He cried out as he came inside her, a low gutrual sound that could have been a whimper. He stood there unmoving for a moment, his eyes shut tight and his teeth slightly bared, he pressed his head harder into the hollow of her throat as his body started shaking. Natasha felt his tears hit her skin "Clint…" she whispered softly.   
Clint pulled away from her and let her down onto her feet, he turned from her and clenched his fists.  
Natasha pulled her pants up and took a step towards him, her hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, he turned slightly and slapped her arm away with the back of his hand. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his whole body trembling now, muscles stiff and ready to strike. She looked at him sadly and he turned to face her, his expression was that of disgust and rage.   
"Why don't you hate me?" His tone accusing and rough. She stood her ground but didn't move or say anything. His lips curled into a snarl as he stepped forward and pushed her   
"Why don't you fight back?" He yelled at her and lifted his fist, she dodged his punch and ducked under his arm, she straightened up behind him.

Is that what he had wanted? For her to give in to survival mode and break his neck? Did he want her to kill him?  
He turned and looked at her, the rage on his face faltered as his eyes caught the smear of lipstick at the corner of her mouth. His breath hitched in his throat as his mind caught up to his actions.   
Clint took a step back, his eyes darting around her face. From the loose strand of hair that fell over her eye, the tears barely visible behind her lashes, to the smeared red of lipstick that made him recoil like he'd been struck. He doubled over, his hands gripped his head and he screamed. Natasha flinched at the sound, she'd seen him hurt before, physically and mentally but this was like a monster trying to claw its way out of his chest.   
Clint fell to his knees as his hands created fists in his hair, he was swallowing air like someone had kicked him hard in the diaphragm. 

Natasha didn't move, she stood there uselessly watching him fall deeper into despair. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to do.   
Clint let go of his hair and stared at his palms, there was blood from the fight earlier on his hands and up his arms. The trembles in his body got worse and his voice broke as he spoke  
"I.. I'm sorry Nat…" his tears fell onto his hands, mixing with the dark red stains.   
"End this… please" he looked at her now, his eyes rimmed with red, the hollow of his eyes dark and weary "please!" He yelled at her as fresh tears fell down his cheeks.

Natasha still couldn't move, her legs felt like cement, so she just stared at him, his eyes pleading with her to end it… her brow furrowed as she felt anger rising in her chest. Her head snapped to the sound of the door being opened, it swung inwards and hit the wall.   
A towering figure walked in and grabbed the back of Clint's suit, lifting him off the ground and turning his just enough to allow for the man's fist to uppercut into Clint's stomach.  
Clint coughed harshly as the pain radiated outwards from the point of impact. The man slammed Clint against the wall a good few inches off the ground. His fists curled over the front of Clint's uniform, pushing roughly into his chest and holding him in place.   
The Archer didn't make a move to defend himself, he merely looked at the man through his lashes   
"Steve…" 

Steve released one of his hands from the bundled fabric and punched Clint square in the jaw. Clint's head snapped to the left. He could already feel the bruise rising in his skin but he didn't care. Steve let him go and the Archer hit the ground with a thud, he let his head touch the wall behind him as blood poured from the cut on his lip. Steve towered over him, fists clenched by his side and Clint fleetingly wondered where the next hit would land, But Steve turned his back to him which was way worse than any physical assault. 

"If you want to kill yourself fine, but don't you dare bring any of us down with you" Steve was looking at him over his shoulder, his eyes dark and angry, Steve's mouth was in a tight line but Clint could tell he was trying not to bare his teeth.   
Clint lowered his head, the pain in his face and stomach growing in intensity as the adrenaline wore off from his system.   
"I'm sorry" it wasn't much more than a whisper, Steve turned and gripped the front of Clint's shirt again, lifting him aggressively off the floor to a standing position. He tensed for the blow but opened his eyes when he felt himself be pulled against Steve's chest, his arms wrapped around the man's smaller frame and Clint felt fresh tears fall.


End file.
